“Yet the sunshine of happiness matures the leaves and branches.  I have had much sunshine,” said Dawn, speaking the words slowly and tenderly.

“I would that the storms might pass over you, but in the human lot I know they must come.”

She looked into his eyes, and they appeared so like Ralph’s just then that tears came to her own, and she could not force them back.

“This emotion is not all your own,” said Mr. Bernard.

Dawn looked up inquiringly.

“He is here-Ralph, and too often for your good and his own.”

A flush came over her face.

“I mean no harm,” he continued.  “It is true that he will weaken you by too much emotion, which was ever a large component of his beautiful and trusting nature.  Ralph must put aside his deep tenderness, and come less often, and then he will bring you more strength when he does come to you.”

“But what if he never left me, and never can, Mr. Bernard?”

“Then you must mingle with those who are his opposite, those who can strengthen him through you.”

“I never thought of that before.”

“Nor I, Miss Wyman.  It is the impression of the moment, but none the less true for that.”

“I feel its truth, and will act upon it; thus a portion of his development will come through my associations, be drawn up through the earthly conditions that surround me.  How little we know of the other life, or of this.”

“The two are so conjoined that a knowedge of one cannot but bring with it some truth concerning the other.”

The conversation had been of so much interest that they had not noticed how far into the night it had been protracted, until a sudden glance at the clock led Beatrice to suggest that Dawn might wish for rest preparatory for her journey on the morrow.

“How kind of you to come so soon, Dawn,” said Mrs. Austin, excitedly clasping her to her heart.  “I am so sad, and only you can relieve me.”

“What is it?  Are you or any of your family ill?”

“No, no.  Something worse, much worse to me.  Sit by me while I tell you.”

Dawn took the seat, while in hurried, trembling tones, her friend related her story.

“You know my sister Emily, Mrs. Dalton.  Well, two days ago I received a letter from her, stating that she had left her husband, and was coming to see me a few days to tell me all, and then go through the world alone.”

“Is that all?  I thought something fearful had happened,” said Dawn, looking calmly on her friend.

“All?  Can anything be worse than that?  Think of the disgrace to us;” and Mrs. Austin burst into a flood of tears.

“It’s no disgrace if they could not harmonize, but the very highest and best thing they could do.”

“O, Dawn; but what will the world come to, if all the married people flare up at every little inharmony, and separate?”